Tonight, about 2 hours ago, I sent my youngest boy off for his first–and last (he is a senior this year) Homecoming Dance.

He looked so handsome, standing there, letting me dry his hair with the hair dryer, asking me how to put his bow-tie on, and fretting over getting his shirt tucked in just so. He didn’t want to bend over and risk it coming “untucked”, so he asked me to tie his shoes.

As he was waiting for his buddy to pick him up (they were driving together, to meet up with a large group of friends, for dinner) I reminded him of manners–“I know this isn’t a “date”, but that doesn’t matter–you treat the girls with respect tonight. You make them feel special—open the doors for them, offer them your umbrella, pull their chairs out at the table. Be a gentleman.”

He said, “Ok, mom. Got it.” as he went out the door, jumped in the car, and drove off with his friend.

I then went inside, and unfortunately checked Facebook.

And doing so reminded me that the world we are handing our kids–my boy, the one I just lectured on being a “gentleman”–is so upside down.

I read posts from friends, pastors and “evangelical” leaders, dismissing Trump’s lewd remarks about women–remarks that, yes, he made 11 years ago–shrugging them off as “locker room talk.”

“It’s not that bad. I’ve heard worst. That’s “normal” (yes, I saw that word used) stuff that guys do and say. It was years ago, we can’t expect him to have respected women then–it was so long ago. People change.”

It makes my stomach hurt.

It causes me to grieve.

And I am angry.

If I were to apply that kind of logic to my parenting, then wouldn’t it follow that I am a fool to have told my son to be respectful of the young ladies whose company he will be in tonight, because–after all–boys will be boys? And girls–and woman–are objects to be treated as property, evaluated and conquered, not treated with respect and dignity, right?

This is what some are saying is “not a big deal” for the position of “President” in our country.

People. My friends. This can not be.

It calls to my mind, the words we find in James 3, which refer to the words that we speak:

The words Trump uses are essentially curses of women (daughters, sisters, mothers, wives), yet at the same time, he is quick to invoke God’s name, when it suits his agenda. An interview in June, with Cal Thomas, revealed Trump’s focus of using–and abusing–what he can, to get what he wants–even religion. (You can read the transcript of that interview by clicking this link: Trump Interview-Transcript.

These words on the tape are not something we can dismiss as “boys will be boys”. That kind of thinking has scarred thousands of us whose lives have been shattered by the nightmare of sexual abuse, sexual assault, and related crimes. Words that are shrugged off as “boys will be boys” and “locker room banter” absolutely can–and does–lead to sinful actions and evil crimes. I KNOW THIS TOO WELL. Whew. My soul.

Trump is not a boy. He was an adult when he made those misogynist statements. He’s 70 years old now. He was 59 years old then. He was and is an adult man, who displays predatory behavior. And absolutely does not belong in the White House.

I have many more thoughts on this, however I can not bear to see them as words written down.

And Hilary–I will not vote for her, either. For a myriad of different reasons, her pro-choice stance being just one. A thousand different reasons. She terrifies me, too.

They both do. I’m outraged by both candidates–and by both parties, for allowing our political world to build up as a climate of lies and greed and scandals for decades upon decades, only to dump us at this doorstep in history. I hate that this is what we are handing our kids for their future. And I want neither candidate as my oldest son’s Commander-in-Chief.

I will absolutely exercise my right to vote in November–in honor of those who have given their lives to give me that right. And to teach my kids that we have a right and responsibility to vote. And I have been and will continue to talk much with them, about the need to do what is right, even when it is not popular. And to trust God and remember that this is not our home–we are but sojourners here in this warped and sin-ridden world.

Yes, I will vote come November. However, I will write in candidates this year.

And while I have been accused of casting a useless vote (I have been told that, by not voting for Trump, I am endorsing and ensuring a win for Hilary. That is ridiculous.) I absolutely do not agree that by doing so, I am “throwing away” my vote. Not in the least. Not at all.

I fully recognize that the people whose names I am going to write in, will not win.

But one of the beautiful things about our freedom as US citizens is that I have the freedom to NOT vote for either candidate, neither of whom I have confidence in. And I, personally, can’t vote for either of the major party candidates.

I’ve seen too much in this life, to brush Trump’s words off as harmless “banter among the guys”. He is a childish man displaying predatory behavior. No. Never Trump.

And I take the work I do in support of our armed forces in my job seriously–as well as the sacredness and sanctity of human life, that I can’t bear to cast my vote for Hilary as President when, had I done what she has done (in her treatment of secured and classified information), I’d be in prison. No. Never Hilary.

But I absolutely will cast a vote, for my write-in choices. And I will teach my children to be thinkers and make careful and wise choices.

And I will pray. And speak against evil, when I see it.

And I will rest in the fact that there will be a day–Maranatha, God. We are so tired. We long for your return.

There is a very real sense in which one becomes a part of a family, when one becomes a Christ-follower.

There is a beautifulness to this truth. There is an imagery difference between being welcomed in to a family and being welcomed to a new job. Or to a new professional organization. Or to a new Bunco group, PTA, sports team, neighborhood, school…..the list of “groups” we can belong to is long.

But nothing quiet invokes the same images, thoughts and feelings that being a part of a “family” does.

I’ve been blogging through John Frame’s Systematic Theology, published by P&R Publishing. I am so grateful for the copy they gifted me with; this has and continues to be an enjoyable, thought-provoking experience. You can find my first post in this series at this location: Theology Is…. I’ll list my other posts below, and I encourage you to check out P&R Publishing, where you can read more about this book and purchase it (currently on sale!). You can find their page here: P&R Publishing

This week, I’ve been reading and thinking my way through Chapter Six: The Family of God

This is an idea that, actually, I think of often. There are many–myself included–who struggle with the concept of family, for whatever reason. Sometimes, the hard things of this world penetrate our idea of what family looks like. I know this struggle quite intimately.

And, for some, that struggle bleeds into a warped view of who God is, and what it means to be His son or daughter. Maybe their earthly image of the person in the role of “father” makes the idea of God as Father something to back away from, instead of running headlong towards. Or, maybe fear of abandonment and rejection that one may have experienced in their early families causes that same person to avoid the risk of being part of this God-ordained family.

But sometimes, precisely because of these same struggles, a person may find the truth that being a Christ-follower also means becoming the son or daughter of God to be settling.

Comforting, even.

And they may run straight to that analogy and brace this “family” with a white-knuckled grip, because of the grace and mercy they have found therein.

It is the embodiment of Psalm 68:6(I typically reference ESV in my writings, but I find the NIV language here to be significant and, according to Frame, accurate”:

But, you see, it isn’t just any family. It’s a family where the patriarchal role is filled by one who is sovereign and holy. Whose grace, mercy and compassion reaches down and adopts us to be His own. Who will never abandon or forsake. Who will never leave us. Whose discipline is always, always, always for our good, even when it stings. And, who loves us deeply enough to give His son as a sacrifice for our sins, so that we may become His children, alongside this Son whom He resurrected to life–and through that act, bestows upon us the gift of eternal life, in His presence.

Truly, there is no greater love.

And so sometimes, we run to that because the longing is so deep for that gift of grace and mercy. We run to it, and we fall in it, and we marvel at what God has done.

And we are grateful. I am grateful.

Behind and beyond that, is the gift we are given of actual family here on this earth, in the form of fellow Christ-followers. Brothers and sisters, who come alongside us and share both our deepest griefs and our deepest joys.

However, we are still sinful beings. And, in our human sinfulness, we at times hurt each other. And those moments are so very painful–just ask any church member who has found themselves the object of church gossip. Or any pastor who has been hurt by a loud, boisterous critic. Or any Christ-follower who is broken-hearted over a lost friendship with other Christ-followers, beyond reconciliation. These moments are often intensely painful–maybe more so than when they occur outside the Christ-family–because our sense of family within the church among Christ-followers is so deep.

Worst still are the times when church becomes a not-safe place. When church becomes a store-front proclaiming the gospel, yet a backshop filled with dark things. I have known that situation as well.

But when we are obedient both in worship and action, and when we place our worship on the one true God, then the safest place of refuge we should be able to find, is the church. And when we come together in communion at His table, the unity found there should also be the place to celebrate our deepest joys.

Do you know why? Because church is practice for when we are called home, to our true place of citizenship…among our brothers and sisters, before the throne of our God.

Frame illuminates this relationship a bit when he writes:

“Brother is the most common way of referring to a believer after Jesus’ resurrection. The term distinguishes the believer from the world (1 Corinthians 5:9-11)…The name brother (which, of course, includes sisters) is a precious title, indicating fellowship in the holy family.”

Precious, indeed.

So we must be cognizant of this. We must be aware that the imperfect people who sit beside our imperfect selves in the pews of our churches, who have claimed the role of Christ-follower as we have ourselves, are our brothers and sisters. That is a precious title. And a gift that we give–and receive, both from God and from those alongside us.

Family.

Grateful.

I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that Frame also takes a significant look at the “God as a feminine entity” viewpoint in theology, as well as the critique that some have against the normative use of masculine language when referencing God. He argues soundly against both stances, and backs up his argument with logic and research that makes sense to my brain. I’ll not belabor that here, mainly because this is not something that I have ever struggled with. I can’t fathom thinking of God in feminine language usage; that’s not to say I’ve not thought about it, or contemplated the idea. It is just that I have, and I have landed soundly and firmly on the same side of the debate as Frame, after looking at scripture. However, if this is something you would like to do more thinking on, and are curious as to Frame’s thoughts on the subject, then this article by Tony Reinke, which references Frame’s thoughts, may be a good place to start: Desiring God.

The state in which we all find ourselves, at one point or another, in life.

Surely, dear reader, you have found yourself undone, at one time or another. I know I have. I know that there have been times in my life, when I just could not possibly take another step. There were times in which my soul–if not my very mind–was so fractured and wrecked that I could not see past the next breath. I knew those moments as a child, facing the reality of evil for the first time. I knew those moments in the middle-of-the-night nightmares that steal my breath and sleep to this day. And, I absolutely knew that moment in the days following my husband’s arrest and subsequent sentencing. And, I have known the state of being undone since then, as I’ve walked this road of single parenting.

It’s terrifying.

It’s choking.

It’s exhausting.

It’s wrapped in a sense of hopelessness.

And, in those moments, it can be so very hard to sense God’s presence. To sense that He sees. And that He knows.

And, in those moments, it can also be very difficult to accept and trust His sovereignty.

But there is another definition, or application, to the beautiful word “Undone.”

You may be asking, first, how I can describe the word “Undone” as being beautiful, in light of the list above. Terror, and exhaustion, and hopelessness–those are not “beautiful” words.

And I would agree with you. You are right. They are not beautiful words. They are hard words that create chaos in our lives, and in the lives of those we love. But there truly is a sense in which being “Undone” can be a beautiful thing…..

……because, when we become “Undone”–when everything is stripped away in a Job-like manner and there is nothing left, and when we recognize that truly, we are Undone, it is then–and only then–do we see that He is our only hope.

And in those moments–our “Undone-ness” shifts much like the earth shifts, in the midst of an earthquake.

Our “Undone-ness” shifts from being “Undone” by the terrifying darkness, to being “Undone” by and before the One who is the only light that dispels that darkness, as we learn in John 1:4-5:

It’s that moment when we recognize that He, alone, in His sovereignty, not only sees the circumstances that threaten to bring us to a state of being undone and unable to take another step, let alone that next breath–He sees that. And knows. And grieves on our behalf.

And then, He acts.

Maybe not in the way we wish He would. He is not Santa Claus. He is not some Genie in a Bottle. We wouldn’t worship Him, if He were! We are selfish, sinful creatures. We would make out our self-centered, selfish Wish List, much like we did each year as children, when the Sears Christmas Catalog would appear in our mailboxes in November: and we would never be satisfied.

No, He may not give us what we beg Him for.

He may not take away the nightmares.

He may not take away the chronic illness. Or the cancer. Or repair the marriage. Or provide you with that better-paying job.

But–oh, my soul–He is not idle. He does not abandon. He does not sit in silence, though it most certainly seems to be that way sometimes.

He does not forsake.

But He does demand that we trust Him. He does demand that we worship Him. He does demand that we acknowledge that He. Is. God.

And we are not.

And, when we come to the end of ourselves, and bring our undone souls to the foot of His throne, He then does exactly what the lyrics from the song “Undone” by Sovereign Grace tells us He will do:

But You were rich in mercy To provide what You demand And now on Christ, the solid rock, we stand

We have not the ability to exercise faith that He is who He says He is, apart from His mercy to provide that faith to us. We have not the ability to worship Him, apart from His mercy to put the song of worship in our souls and upon our lips. And we have not the ability to acknowledge who He is, apart from His mercy to show us He is God.

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And I’ve always thought that somehow, we who are Christ-followers (and, those who are not–so truly, all of mankind), are somewhere in this in-between area suspended between the two, as we live in this present age.

But tonight I am rethinking that idea.

I’ve been reading–and writing–my way through Dr. John Frame’s Systematic Theology. I’m grateful to P&R Publishing for this opportunity, and grateful for Dr. Frame’s labor to produce a very comprehensive, yet applicable tome that covers a tremendous scope of effort. If interested, you can read my introduction to this series at this link: Theology is…. Also, I’ll add links to my other postings about earlier chapters below.

You know that cliché–“Too heavenly minded to be any earthly good?” Yeah? Well–first let me share that I abhor clichés. Very much so, in fact. But sometimes…well, sometimes they hit a bit close to home. And, I’m afraid, that sometimes I wander a bit closely to this one.

I focus much on the “not yet”……. the home that is to come, when Christ returns or this life ends and I find myself before my God. I ache for the day that no longer will I see as in a mirror dimly, but rather see Him face-to-face. (1 Corinthians 13:12). I yearn for the day that what I know in part becomes fully known–just as my Savior fully knows me. (also 1 Corinthians 13:12)

However, reading through Frame’s chapter titled The Kingdom of God (Chapter 5) has reminded me of something that I need reminded of–often. The two–the already and the not yet–co-exist in a way that we can neither explain nor ignore.

The present age that we live in, is not some cosmic “holding pen”, where we are biding our time until we are called to our final destination. Yet please, hear me say this: I am not saying that we are not sojourners here. We are; very much so. This is not our home, we who are Christ-followers. We are, in all ways, passing through. Our citizenship lies in the eternal sanctification that we are called to in the “not yet”. But this present age is also a part of the Kingdom of God. It is the “already”. And while there is tremendous grief and suffering that we witness–and experience–in this present life (oh, my soul, how deeply I have known that grief!)–the reason we can have hope in that grief, is because there is an “already”.

The Kingdom of God is present. Today.

Frame shares this, regarding “the age to come”:

“The “age to come,” however, is the age of fulfillment…In the understanding of those Jews who believed in resurrection, “that age” follows our death and God’s final judgement. In “the age to come,” God’s people have “eternal life” (Mark 10:30)…..

…But, the remarkable thing about NT teaching, in contrast with the Jewish conception, is that in one sense the “age to come” has already appeared in Christ. Believers in Christ are those “on whom the end of the ages has come” (1 Cor. 10:11).” (Frame, pg. 89)

Remarkable, indeed. Because, sometimes–sometimes I get so wrapped up in the concept that “there will be a day, with no more tears–no more suffering”, that I forget to see the remarkable impact that Christ’s resurrection has on this age. On my life today, sitting here at my desk in a small, marshy peninsula on the East Coast of the United States, as I hear my laundry machine humming, as I listen to my girl practicing her violin in her room, and as I hear my boy cooking himself an egg sandwich in the kitchen–because he never, ever is full (such is the life of a 17-year-old boy).

Christ’s resurrection is what gives me–and you, dear reader–the hope we so desperately need and desire, here in this present age. The truth of scripture lays out that hope for us in the accounts of our Lord’s death, burial and resurrection. Just as the disciples and the women who went to the tomb found their utter despair turned upside down in a split second, we, too, can and do have that same life-giving hope.

And that hope should color everything we do and say. It should be the lens through which we view all of life–the good, and the sorrowful. The joys and the griefs. The moments of elation, and the moments of tremendous despair. It is what allows us to be able to grasp what is written 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18–that we do not grieve as others who have no hope. It is a hope that we have in the “already”. And it is a hope that will be fully realized, in the “not yet”.

I never want to lose site of the truth that this is not my home. I will always long for that home. Maybe more than some. I have seen much in this life, that makes me long for the truth that “there will be a day”.

But I don’t want to become so future-focused that I neglect to see the “already” that we have in this present age: that Jesus has already ushered in the Kingdom of God. He stands at the right-hand of His father. He sees and knows us, and grieves over the suffering in this world. And He is a holy and just God, who, in His sovereignty, rules this present age every bit as much as the age to come.

This is why there is joy, and hope, in this present age that also contains much sorrow and suffering–because He is King, in the now. He is King, in this “already” of every day life, as we wait for the “not yet”.

(If you would like to check out Frame’s Systematic Theology, you can find more information at the P&R Publishing website, located at this link: Systematic Theology by John Frame) or by clicking the picture of the book above this post.)

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My name is Shelly Duffer, and I am a follower of Christ and the mom of four amazing kids. Scripture, words, reading and writing--all of these are vital to my mind and soul. I collect words like others collect baseball cards. And I love all things that contain peanut butter and chocolate.